


It Chapter 2 rewrite but it's fuckin good and no one fuckin dies

by GalekhXigisi



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, F/M, Fuck Canon, I Die By My Own Sword, It 2 but I write it better, M/M, Multi, No Beta, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Stanley Uris Has OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Stanley Uris Is The Only Loser With His Shit Together, Trans Male Richie Tozier, Trans Richie Tozier, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 01:26:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21066488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: Stan lives, Eddie lives, FUCK canon





	It Chapter 2 rewrite but it's fuckin good and no one fuckin dies

He stares at his phone, eyes half-lidded and bored, tired of the same forgotten contact sitting there for so damn long. It hadn’t been used in  _ years, _ maybe twenty-six, given that there had been a pause between the inevitable flop and the contact getting somewhere. It always sat at the back of his mind, just like Stan’s number. They had kept in contact, the only losers to still keep up with each other because Richie wasn’t ready to lose his best friend. He didn’t want to end on a sour note like he had with Eddie, or really any of the others, but the older especially. 

Richie didn’t need to call or text much anymore. Stan was there at the end of his shows, there for many of them. Shit, the two were to be wedded soon, but, just as easily as he had forgotten a million feelings, they all came rushing back, thrown in his face. He had thrown up the instant he heard Mike’s voice, vomiting violently with only half a minute of comfort. He couldn’t explain why it made him throw up, but he had always been the weakest stomach of the losers, right? That’s how he remembered it, but who was to say now? 

Stan sighs softly, sitting beside his fiance. They were to be wedded in a few days, just four days left. They had waited until after Richie finally started testosterone, until after he finally got to win his parents over that this  _ wasn’t a fucking phase, _ until after Richie got top surgery. It was a million different steps that the two had waited out, a million different things that catered to each of their needs. They had to wait until both of them were done mourning their parents, too. Maggie Tozier didn’t outlive Donald Uris like they thought she would. The two mourned and things were finally going to be  _ good _ again. They were finally out of that mourning depression period! They were finally making it official after  _ years. _

But now… Now things are different. There’s that  _ swell _ of emotions, the one that makes Richie’s stomach do a double flip every few seconds. It’s not even a good sort of flip! It’s the kind that hints at anxiety and an underlying ache that Richie  _ knows _ Stan feels just as hard. It leaves the underlying words they never got to say to their childhood best friend because the one time they had  _ tried, _ Eddie’s mother was there with a woman named Sonia and a manipulative twist that ended in such a horrid fight that they never even got the chance to talk to Eddie ever again. 

Stan pulls the phone away from Richie. He passes a wary look to the other. It’s a silent, newly lit flame that wildly crackled. Those fires that were put out and left as flickers of embers relit just as passionately, fanned by the ache the men shared for Edward Kaspbrak. 

“You’re going to make yourself sick again,” Stan whispers in a low voice, flickering the phone off with his thumb. He offers the glass of water that had sat in his other hand. Richie doesn’t turn it down. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I managed to get Lane off your ass for the next week.” 

Richie heaves out a soft sigh, taking a long drink from the cup. He silently knows what goes unspoken. It’s the softest and closest he’ll get to  _ I love you _ until their wedding, and he’s just fine with that. He always has been. He’ll settle for a few stolen kisses and passed off care. They just had to take care of each other for now. The  _ It’s going to be okay, we’ll handle this _ goes unsaid, and Richie understands it without needing anything outside of a gentle look from his lover. 

-

Richie makes his appearance the same way he always would. Simple, be the most  _ annoying _ and  _ comedic asshole _ he possibly can. He throws out an easy complaint to himself, dishing out, “Wow, you two look amazing.” Ben and Beverly both turn towards him the instant they hear his voice, his hands still clasped in Stan’s own. “What the  _ fuck  _ happened to me?” 

Stan offers a smile from his spot beside the other. “Rich, we’ve talked about this,” he softly chides. Richie knows they’ve talked about it. They have a million different times, both with each other and a therapist. He wasn’t supposed to put himself down so much.

“Holy  _ shit,” _ Ben provides with a smile, already offering out open arms for both of the two. 

“Richie,” Richie provides for himself, giving a vague gesture at his own being. 

Ben nods, still smiling so wide and happy. “I know.” He had to know. Richie had called him the singular time he ever got shitfaced drunk, sobbing to Ben because Ben was the most likely to press support. He was the least likely to get in a huge fight with the other. Accepts the hug so easily, the two men falling into his and Bev’s embrace without a hitch. Silent acceptance presses on in the huddle. It’s an acceptance that Richie takes within a stride. 

-

Richie slams the gong without remorse, eyes fixated on Mike and Bill instead of Eddie, pointedly avoiding his friend. It was easier like that. Stan smiles widely, hand now around Richie’s waist. He takes up his lover’s plan to annoy the other without hesitation. “Losersclub meeting has officially begun!” 

Eddie offers a lopsided smile, though, gesturing to the four standing in the doorway. “Look at these guys,” he says to Bill and Mike, who both seem to actually  _ relax _ at seeing the others. 

-

Richie doesn’t drink any of the alcohol provided, though Stan seems to be enjoying himself, throwing down Richie’s shot without remorse. He’d knowingly be hungover by morning and bitching the entire time, but Richie’s sure he can get through the other’s complaints. He decided to jab at the issue that’s been bugging him after the third round of shots. 

“Wait, Eddie, you got married?” He smiles, striving for that happy expression. 

“Yeah,” he shoots back instantly, just as angry of a spitfire as he always had been, “Why’s that so fucking funny, dickwad?’ 

His expression falls. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to be seen as hurt to anyone else except  _ maybe _ Stan, who’s throwing back his sixth shot. To say the least, the couple didn’t hit the bar that often. Richie didn’t like drinking after his dad and Stan only saw it as something to do for special occasions. This seemed to be justifiably one of those, even if Richie asks, “What? To, like, a woman,” in a painfully bored tone with a neutral expression. 

“Fuck you, bro,” he gets in return with a jab of a straw in his direction, just barely avoiding his general direction. 

Richie manages to find that asshole personality within an instant, smiling widely as he yells, “Fuck you!” He laughs before slyly replying, “Or you could just fuck me yourself, coward.” 

Bill seems to finally want to intervene before the two got fully heated. He smiles, cheek stuffed with food. “Alright, what about you, Trashmouth? You married?” 

Beverly laughs. “THere’s  _ no way _ Richie’s married!” The others seemingly agree, outside of Stan, who throws down his seventh shot with a smirk and raised brow, cheeks tinting red and easily telling Richie that he has the right to give any answer he wants. 

And Richie does so, taking the snarky route and gently jabbing at Eddie, who gets just as angry as he expected him to get. Beverly cringes and Bill snorts alcohol, coughing it back into his glass from the laugh. He quickly clears up, “But, no, seriously, I’m getting married in five days, actually!” 

Ben raises a brow. “Really? Who’s got that misfortune?” 

Stan scoffs into his glass, taking a sip of water. Richie smiles and pulls the other closer. “Stan the Man is soon going to trap himself with me.” He tries to act like he doesn’t catch Eddie’s gaze sadly flicker away. It makes his stomach flop. 

Stan smiles at his fiance, pushing him away. “Well,  _ someone _ has to deal with you, don’t they, Trashmouth?” 

“And you actually chose to do it,” he laughs in reply. 

-

Richie glares the steering wheel. How in the  _ Hell _ had he decided so quickly that Eddie, newly divorced and freshly back into dating once again, would be coming home with him and Stan? Eddie, who packed all his shit and left the divorce papers on the table, was going to be coming home with Richie and Stan, who barely brought a suitcase between the two of them because they were so horribly fucking stupid. They haven’t even brought any of their medications, for fuck’s sake! 

Just as easily as they are bickering, they’re all suddenly getting along, the fight so long ago forgotten in the wind like nothing more than turmoil over a math test in first grade. Richie would admit that Stan certainly sobered up rather quickly when it came to Mike beating a table senseless and Richie screaming about a fortune cookie staring at him. If not for everything going on, he would  _ totally _ let Stan drive them, but he’s not  _ that _ trusting with a newly sobered Stan. Not after a newly sobered Stan had fucked up making a totally hungover Richie pancakes and set the kitchen on fire, which ended up revoking his oven privileges for a long while, not that he’d admit it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really like this draft but it's been sitting in my mind for a while so here y'all go
> 
> Hmu on my discord server, too! I'd love to see y'all there!  
https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


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